Disclaimer:
I own nothing created and or mentioned, by J.K. Rowling, in the books of Harry Potter. This story is a product intended for enjoyment not financial gain.
Rating: Mature
Sexual content, language content, and dark themes
Severus sat at the Hogshead, fingers nervously drumming, as he anticipated his meeting with Albus Dumbledore. Over the week he had become accepting to the fact that he was most likely going to fail this mission. Out of all the qualified applicants, why would he be chosen to teach young witches and wizards? Severus, who was sarcastic, brutally honest, contained no patience for ignorance, and for the most part, hated children? This seemed to stretch the limits of social physics too far. He would return to Vertice tonight, bearing bad news, and be subjected to the Cruciatus Curse until he begged for mercy and cried for his master's leniency.
It was a slow night at the Hogshead, only a handful of customers present, appearing to be in greater numbers with the size of the small pub. The atmosphere was light, despite the pouring rain, filling the tiny building with accentuated ease. The thick smell of mildew and fresh wood hung in the air, mixing with the essence of hard liquor and ale. A soft tune played in the background, hushed under the buzz of the bar dwellers' conversations.
Sighing deeply, Severus brought his almost empty butter beer to his lips as he peered around at the people who inhabited the small tavern. He noticed Hagrid, the gamekeeper of Hogwarts, almost immediately. Who could miss the belligerent giant? Another face that rang bells with him was Filch, the caretaker, who appeared to be accompanying the colossal gardener. The two seemed happily drunk as they began singing of the Scottish country side, clinking their cups in inebriated joy.
The door opened with a bang, the rain coming through in sharp blades, as Dumbledore stepped over the threshold. Removing his hood as he walked. He spotted Severus at once, walking over to him in humble steps.
"Severus, thank you for coming, young lad."
"Not at all, Headmaster," Severus insisted grasping the older wizard's hand in greeting.
"I'm sure you're eager to get this interview underway. I have but one applicant ahead of you to assess. You don't mind waiting do you?"
"Of course not."
"Good man, it shall take no more than a half an hour."
"Might I inquire as to which subject said applicant is petitioning for?"
Dumbledore gave a light chuckle, his eyes twinkling, identifying Severus' question as assessment of his competition.
"Sybil Trelawney, she is being interviewed for divinations, my dear boy. Now if you'll excuse me, I see her waiting right over there."
Severus watched as Dumbledore walked over to a batty looking basket-case of a woman. He shook her hand in a delicate manner, before engaging in small talk, and going up the narrow rickety stairs.
Severus returned to his people watching for the better part of the half hour as he drank the end of his butter beer. Placing it down on the table, he got up from his seat and walked up the beat up staircase in search of the lavatory. He opened a door that turned out to be a closet, and so continued to ascend. Coming upon another door, his hand on the knob, a deep raspy voice, the atypical droll of prediction, caught his attention. It rapidly occurred to Severus that he had never actually witnessed a prediction being made. Thus he quickly sat on the floor, pressing his ear to the wood, trying to make out what was being said.
"The one with the power to vanquish The Dark Lord approaches…Born to those who have thrice defied him three times, born as the seventh months dies…and."
"What are you doing, boy?" asked a gruff looking man who grabbed Severus by the collar and easily hoisted him to his feet.
"Unhand me!" He spat, trying to work the rough hands from his shirt.
"What were you doing?" The man asked once more. "That's a private interview, that is—let's go, you're outta here!"
The door opened to reveal Dumbledore looking quite aghast, the applicant looking satisfied and smug. Her complacent expression turned to that of scrutiny upon seeing Aberforth holding the squirming Severus by the collar.
"I came up the wrong way," Severus was saying as Aberforth told him to shut up.
"This muck was listening at doors," Aberforth said as he began to drag Severus back down the stairs.
"Oh, dear," said Dumbledore, moving a wrinkled hand to his cheek in dismay. This could possibly be very grim.
"Get off of me," Snape was saying as Aberforth dragged him down the stairs, through the pub and opening the front door.
"Don't you come back, I know your type, death eating trash. Away with ya!" He hollered slamming the door shut.
Severus stood in the rain, becoming completely soaked in a second. His hair hung about him in dripping strands before his feet began to carry him away.
"The one with the power to vanquish The Dark Lord," he muttered as he continued on the muddy trail, his shoes being sucked and pulled as he walked.
This prophecy was alarming at the very least and Severus knew he had to get back to Vertice in as little time as possible. He apparated with a crack, reappearing down the path from the mountain top. He jogged up the rocky road, then began muttering the incantations at the door that allowed him access within.
He wasted no time with pleasantries as Avery and Mulciber beckoned him upon his passing by the lounge. Ignoring them duly, he made his way directly to his master's chambers. The door flew open upon his knocking, shutting behind him with a bang.
"You've returned early, Severus," Voldemort was saying as Severus fell to his knees, as was custom before The Dark Lord.
"Yes, My Lord," Severus said, his voice frantic.
"Everything went well I trust?"
"N-no, My Lord, complications arose."
"Complications?" Lord Voldemort inquired stepping closer to his young servant. "Were you able to secure the position?"
"I was never interviewed," he admitted, his mind racing.
"You were never interviewed?" The Dark Lord repeated slowly. "What did I send you there for, Severus?"
"I know, My Lord, something came up that I must inform you about. Something of the gravest importance."
"What might that be?" The Dark Lord asked, his voice jaded with animosity. It was obvious he was disappointed with Severus for his failed objective.
"Whilst at the Hogshead I overheard an applicant being considered for the position of divination's professor. She produced a prophecy of you, My Lord, of your downfall."
"What was said? Do you recall the exact words?" The Dark Lord inquired, seemingly to forget his recent dismay over the span of five-seconds.
"I was unable to procure the whole prophecy. What I did hear was: the one with the power to vanquish The Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him three times, born as the seventh months dies. I was then contained by the bartender and thrown from the building for listening at doors."
"You're certain what you heard is accurate?"
"I am, My Lord."
"Very well, very well," The Dark Lord said, clasping his hands behind his back and turning away from Severus. "Leave me."
"My, Lord," Severus said while inclining his head respectfully as he departed from the room. . .
The next weeks were chaos as The Dark Lord frantically tried to put the small puzzle pieces of the prophecy together. He sent nearly his whole army out, time and time again, to procure confirmation or opposition of his varies hypotheses. Two families had already been destroyed in the drastic search but The Dark Lord was still unsatisfied. Saying they weren't the correct classification, admitting his own haste in the project. It wasn't until July of 1980 that The Dark Lord appeared to be on the right track.
Severus sat at the long mahogany table with The Dark Lord's inner circle, his arms at his sides, staring off past Bella's head, towards the dark wall behind her. His eyes were blank, his mind numb, his face completely vacant. He hadn't slept in weeks, being rendered too busy for such luxuries from all the tasks The Dark Lord had foisted upon him. Furthermore, his latest assignment, proving to be copiously worthless, earned him an agonizing round of punishment for the better half the morning, rendering his body and mind tired; weak. He sighed deeply, yet silently, before turning his vacant attention to Lucius who began to speak.
"My Lord," said Lucius, his hands folded before him on the grand table. "I have checked the records at St. Mungos, as you bade me, and it has come to my attention that there are two couples in The Order of the Phoenix expecting sons at the end of July."
"Whom do you speak of?"
"Alice and Frank Longbottom, My Lord."
"The other?"
"Lily and James Potter."
Severus' enervated mind had strength enough to become violently troubled by Lucius' news. His whole body kindled with dread as he came to the realization that Lily would be killed if his master elected her son as the unborn culprit. Not only would his flower be plucked from the earth, Holly would be without a mother or legal guardian, since he was revoked of such privileges. It couldn't be her son, no, that would surely be the last straw of his sanity.
"The Potters and the Longbottoms," Lord Voldemort pondered as he absent-mindedly stroked the head of his monstrous snake coiling at his side.
"What days are the children due to be born?"
"They are to be born within a day of each other, My Lord, the Longbottom's boy on the 30th, the Potter's on the 31st."
"That is close," Voldemort said with an ironic chortle.
"Yes, My Lord."
"Thank you, Lucius, you have done well. This makes me feel quite comforted. The Longbottoms and the Potters, which could it be?" The Dark Lord inquired as plainly as if he was wondering who he should invite to his Christmas party instead of who he was condemning to death.
"If I may, My Lord?" Bellatrix began looking hopefully at her master.
"Yes, Bella?"
"I volunteer myself to seek out the Longbottoms and evaluate their promise."
"Kind as ever Bella, I shall accept your offer when the time comes," he said, sounding slightly bored.
"Thank you, My Lord," she cooed as if he had bestowed her with immortality or something made of pure diamonds.
"This gives me much to mull over, I shall need complete solitude and no distractions—leave me."
Severus left with his fellow Death Eaters, unable to calm his rampant heart or his tightening chest. He walked shakily to his quarters, his head pounding, trying to convince himself it was the Longbottoms that were to be murdered and not Lily. He closed his door behind him, his worry becoming more frantic, as he sat stiffly on his bed. There was no need to be so nervous, Lily wasn't sentenced to death yet. There was a choice to be had, there was only a fifty percent chance of her being robbed from him forever. His sense of reason calmed him for the time being, but the fear remained at the back of his mind.
The end of July had come and gone while both children were miraculously born on their predicted due dates. Lily would be completely ridden with bliss as she laughed and cuddled her newest and youngest child, her and Potter's child.
In the middle of August in 1980 Severus was growing ever more anxious as he was summoned to the familiar room of meeting. The time had come to hear The Dark Lord's verdict on who the unlucky family, doomed to die, was going to be.
"Sit, sit, sit," The Dark Lord was chanting as his most trusted followers filed in.
Severus took a seat at the half of the table, in between Bellatrix and Macnair. He dare not look at The Dark Lord, frightened his expression of dread may betray him, as Voldemort drew in breath to speak.
"I have made my decision based on careful consideration. After last evening, after Bella's, uh—confrontation with the Longbottoms and how unbelievingly lax their abilities appeared to be I have come to the conclusion that the bringer of my 'downfall' would be none other than Harry Potter."
The dismay bombarded through Severus like a hurricane crashing to shore. His eyes closed in horror as the Dark Lord prattled on about why he was certain and what his ultimate plans were for the boy, for the father—and the mother. The Dark Lord's voice faded around him, sounding distant and imaginary, as Severus feared he might pass out from the shock. She wasn't dead yet, but she was as good as. When The Dark Lord wanted something he always achieved it. If he wanted you to be happy, you were happy. When he wanted you to feel pain, you felt pain. If he wanted you dead, you ended up dead. Those were the rules, and now Lily was to fall victim to them. Holly too if he was unlucky enough. Why did he have to hear that stupid, inane prophecy?
After Lord Voldemort adjourned the meeting Severus remained behind, his arms clasped behind his back to stop them from shaking.
"What is it, Severus?"
"My Lord, I was curious if I could request a favor?" He asked somewhat hesitantly.
"A favor?" The Dark Lord repeated quizzically. As if he had misheard.
"Yes, Master."
"I am intrigued, what is this favor you wish to ask of me?"
"Thank you, My Lord, it concerns the Potters."
"If you wish to murder the Potter boy yourself, I've already told you, I'm acting alone."
"No, My Lord, none other than you should perform such a feat. I was merely curious—I would be eternally grateful if—if you would spare the mother?" Severus asked, spitting out the final line quickly, as if ripping off a bandaid from a barely healed wound.
"What childish notion is this?" The Dark Lord asked chuckling icily. "Spare the mother? For what purpose?"
Severus contemplated telling his master of Holly, how if Lily was dead she would be without a mother. He opened his mouth to speak, closing it duly, not wanting The Dark Lord to know of Holly's existence. What if he saw fit to wipe out Lily's whole family? He had to, at the very least, keep his daughter safe.
"I have always desired her, My Lord" he said instead. It wasn't a lie, just another reason as to why he wanted the only woman he ever loved to be spared.
"A mudblood, Severus, really? Surely you would have women of a purer breed?"
"I have craved only her since I was a boy, My Lord— old habits, it seems, die hard," he said forcing a lazy smile on his face.
"Indeed," The Dark Lord said rising to his feet. "Well, I shall see what can be done. The mother is of no concern to me and if Harry Potter can be murdered with no harm done to Lily Potter, it shall be so."
"Thank you, My Lord," Severus said gratefully. He truly was a great master.
Hours later Severus sat in his room, thumb nail between his teeth, mulling over what the Dark Lord had promised him. He said he would see what could be done, not, 'of course I'll spare the mother'. He had said if Harry Potter could be killed with no harm done to Lily… if, if, if. These ifs were not good enough, he needed solid, concrete reassurance that Lily would be safe.
He stood up from his bed and went to his potions cupboard, pulling out varies ingredients, books, and already made potions, until he came to the source of what he was searching for. At the very end of the cupboards contents, amongst the cobwebs and dust, lay an old wooden box, a dragon chiseled into the lid. Severus' hand stretched to the very back until he clamped around it, drawing the box from its spider-infested prison.
He pulled off a daddy long leg that was clutching to the side before blowing the dust away in a big cloud. He smiled slightly as he turned around and sat on his bed, his little box resting on his lap. The lid creaked open as he waved his hand over it, pulling out the first article within: a quill made from the wing of a vulture.
As he looked down at the feather in his hands tears began to well in his eyes. The quill had been a birthday gift, presented to him by Lily on his thirteenth year. She was the only person on this earth that ever acknowledged his birthday as something to celebrate (or acknowledged it at all for that matter).
Sniffing back his tears he placed the quill to the side and pulled out a Letter she had written to him when they were twelve. He unfolded the yellowed parchment and reread her sweet words for the first time in over five years.
Dear Severus,
How are you? I'm not so well, I hate that I had to go to my stupid aunt's house this summer. She smells like cabbage and puts mayonnaise in EVERYTHING we eat! I wish I was back at home, I miss you and your sarcasm, ha ha ha. Do you miss me? I hope you're doing well, I worry about you when you're home all alone. Think of when we learn to apparate! I can just pop into your living room when I'm kidnapped to my smelly auntie's house, how groovy would that be? How are things at your house? Are you reading anything good? Well, anyhow, I really do miss you and I can't wait to see you come September.
Love Lily XOXOXOXOXOXOXO
Severus reread the letter twice, relishing the sections when she claimed she missed him and couldn't wait to see him. He smiled through his tears as he folded the piece of parchment up, placing it tenderly to the side before pulling out the third and final keepsake: a photograph.
There in the photograph stood a young Severus and more importantly a young Lily. They stood in front of the lake in their first year at Hogwarts. She had her arms draped around him, hugging his slight form to her chest while smiling ardently into the camera. He too was smiling, his arms clutching to Lily's which were wrapped around him like a snake. The wind was blowing both of their hair as they laughed. So happy to be at Hogwarts. So happy to be together.
Severus ran his hand over the picture, tracing Lily's face with his finger. His eyes were streaming with tears as he recollected the happy times with a pang in his heart. His life, as of late, had been filled with nothing but hatred, regret, and bleak objection. How he yearned to be happy once more, to go back to a time where Lily loved him (even if was just platonically). He knew she hated him now, how could she not? Looking at the photo, he was reminded of what he once possessed in life and what he had lost. If he had the chance to tell this happy, young Severus, in the snapshot, where he was destined to end up, to be alone, a Death Eater, childless, and perpetually dismayed, he was positive he would have told himself to piss off.
Severus lay on his bed, tears silently falling, the picture still clutched in his hand. He couldn't take his eyes from her green ones as he was certain he could smell her in the room. He brushed his fingers over the photo, a sob heaving through him, as he was reminded The Dark Lord would be hunting Lily's son, hunting her. With a violent shudder he concluded he had to make sure she would be safe, he simply had to.
He wasted no time, as he took a piece of parchment and the large feather quill to scribble a note to Albus Dumbledore. The only man Severus trusted to make sure Lily would remain safe. Upon sending the owl to Hogwarts he clasped his cloak around him, wiped his eyes, and set off to the hill top at which he specified Dumbledore to meet him.
Severus stood pacing at the top of the knoll his distressed state of mind manifested by the violent wind that ripped around, fraying his hair and stinging his eyes. He looked about frantically searching for any indication of Dumbledore's coming. The barren trees to his left clacked and clattered loudly, as the wind's whistles consumed his senses. His wand handle grew slick from his rough grip and sweating palm causing it to easily fly from his grasp as a blinding white light erupted before him.
"Don't kill me!" Severus pleaded, dropping to his quivering knees.
"That was not my intention," Albus said, flicking his wand at the violent and noisy wind around them, enveloping the two in silence. "Well, Severus, what message does Lord Voldemort have for me?"
"No—no message—I'm here on my own account!" He sputtered rapidly, hoping that Dumbledore would react to his urgency. "I come with a warning—no, a request—please!"
"What request could a Death Eater make of me?"Dumbledore asked calmly, although the disgust embedded in the word 'Death Eater' did not go unnoticed by Severus.
"The—the prophecy—the prediction—Trelawney—"
"Ah, yes, how much did you relay to Lord Voldemort?" Dumbledore asked with subtle venom.
"Everything—everything I heard! That is why—it is for that reason—he thinks it means Lily Evans," Severus said helplessly as what ever dismal composure he had left flew directly out the proverbial window.
"The prophecy did not refer to a woman. It spoke of a boy born at the end of July—"
"You know what I mean!" Severus cried, frustration moving into his agitated mind. "He thinks it means her son, he is going to hunt her down—kill them all—"
"If she means so much to you surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Can you not ask for mercy for the mother in exchange for the son?"
"I have—I have asked—"
"You disgust me," Dumbledore spat with an uncharacteristic malice. "You do not care, then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?"
"Hide them all, then!" Severus offered desperately. "Keep her—them—safe, please!"
"And what will you give me in return, Severus?" Dumbledore asked stepping closer to the reckless young man.
"In—in return?" Snape questioned, not sure of what his answer would bring but knowing it all too well. "Anything."
Albus Dumbledore lead the distraught youth from the unkempt hill top to the comforts of his own office within Hogwarts school. He fixed Severus a cup of tea in a matter of moments, forcing the warm mug into his hands.
"I don't want it," Severus said shoving the cup away.
"It'll calm your nerves—drink," Albus persisted coaxing the cup to Severus' lips who took a shaky sip.
"T-thank you," Severus muttered as the warmness sat in his stomach. He felt a small bit better.
"Severus, I must ask you," Dumbledore said walking around his desk to sit in his extravagant chair. "Why Lily Potter? What is she to you?"
"She—she mothered my child" he stated reluctantly.
"I am aware of this. I wouldn't think you so adamant to protect the woman who also stole that child away from you last year?"
Severus was unsure of what game Dumbledore was playing at. The sentence barely seemed like something Albus Dumbledore would say to describe Lily's being awarded full custody over a Death Eater.
"What mind trick is this?" Severus asked, not wanting to answer his forked question.
"It is no trick, I wish only to discover where your head is at—so, where is your mind, Severus? Is that the only reason you wish her spared? Because she is the mother of young Holly?"
"Is that not a good enough reason?"
"Your desperation back at the hill top seemed—fueled by a different flame," Dumbledore stated, his eyes twinkling behind those silly half moon spectacles.
"What do you want me to say?" Severus asked, his gaze pleading.
"I wish for you to tell the truth, young man. If this whole business is to work you must learn to be honest with me."
"Honest?" Severus repeated looking at Dumbledore with a glimmer of resentment. The old fool knew he was in love with Lily, why was he going to force him to say it?
"That is all I ask."
"I—I —love—Lily," he stated awkwardly, hanging his head, his hair falling in front of his face. He had never before uttered the words, he felt so eminently, aloud. upon doing so he found they felt warm on his lips, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake.
"Love conquers all," Dumbledore said, an ironic smile on his lips. "Severus, you claimed you would perform any task I asked of you in return for my help in keeping the Potters safe."
"Yes, Headmaster," Severus stated, feeling as if he was speaking to The Dark Lord.
"I wish for you to spy for The Order of The Phoenix," he said as if he was asking Severus to give him a thorough weather report.
"I—I beg your pardon?" Severus asked, unable to believe his ears.
"I wish for you to spy upon Lord Voldemort, pass information to me, so that I can utilize it against him. Can you do this for me?"
"Are you mad?" Severus asked incredulously.
How could this senile old waste actually believe he could spy on The Dark Lord without getting caught? It was a fool's errand and Severus was not a fool. When The Order began getting ahead his master would instinctively believe there was a rat amongst his ranks and sniff Severus out in a matter of hours. It was one thing to be asked by The Dark Lord to spy on Dumbledore, who trusted everyone. It was another thing entirely to be asked to spy on The Dark Lord, who trusted no one.
"I'm quite sane, my boy. This is something I have craved for some time, the edge The Order needs to get ahead, are you willing?" Dumbledore asked leaning forward as if sharing a secret.
Severus looked down at his tea cup wanting to decline. Wanting to storm from the room and return to Vertice to bang his head against the wall but he couldn't—Lily needed him. Holly needed him.
"I—I am," he said simply, not taking his eyes off the swirling liquid in the mug.
"Excellent."
In order for Severus to spy for The Order Albus secured him with a job at Hogwarts to appease his absence from Lord Voldemort's side. It was the perfect fit. Voldemort was pleased because Severus secured his previous objective (obtaining position at Hogwarts to spy on Dumbledore) while simultaneously working his way into Voldemort's supreme good graces. He shared many things with his young servant and Albus couldn't have been more gratified. Dumbledore was not ignorant to Severus' precarious position thus he only utilized about half of the advantages Snape provided him with.
The days droned on with Severus' spying and lying on a daily basis. Working for both good and evil. He found the situation amusing at times, thinking himself a walking paradox. The days turned to weeks, while the weeks turned to months, until it was October of 1981, where Severus and Dumbledore sat comfortably within the Headmaster's office.
". . .So I would warn the Vondon family if I were you," Severus was saying as Dumbledore sat before him, knitting a scarf.
"Excellent, excellent," Albus was saying. "What of the Potters? How is Lord Voldemort fairing in his search for them?"
"I regret to inform you that your most recent hiding spot is becoming apparent to him. He feels in a matter of weeks he'll have located them and his ultimate goal will be recognized. He has not mentioned to me his means of obtaining this information and I have no guesses as to how he's doing it."
"Then we must warn the Potters and have the Fidelius Charm cast upon their whereabouts, immediately," Albus said, placing his knitting down and grabbing a piece of parchment, scribbling on it rapidly. "Thank you, Severus, these tips have been quite useful."
"It's what I'm here for," Snape replied rather mundanely. "They will be safe won't they, the Potters?"
"Of course, my boy, of course," Dumbledore said with a half hearted smile.
As Severus walked down the stairs to the dungeons he couldn't help but be consumed by frantic worry. Albus' reassurance seemed less than sincere, and he was drowned by the familiar emotion of fearing for Lily's life.
As he closed himself within his office he was overwhelmed by the need to see Holly. These feelings came over him from time to time, more often when he was frightened, stressed, or thinking fervently of Lily. He wondered what his little girl looked like now, he hadn't seen her for sometime, leaving him curious whether she was taking after himself or her mother? Was she happy in her recent days even though she was forced into hiding with her mother, half brother, and blasted stepfather? Probably not, who could be happy being locked up with James Potter and his terrible spawn?
Another thought, that often tugged at his mind, whilst Holly did, was whether she would even remember him or not. She was barely three when he last met with her and she was now five, going on six years old. If she didn't remember him, would she instinctively warm to him or would she be shy and withdrawn? Severus sighed deeply, sitting on his large four poster bed, letting images of his daughter dance before his mind as the familiar pangs of loneliness and yearning enveloped his soul.
On October 31st, 1981 Severus stood in front of his potion's class, scribbling words of consequence onto the chalk board while lecturing on the theory behind potion making.
"…In conclusion without the properties of both ingredients the mixture would not only be rendered useless but unequivocally poisonous. These are details that must be considered by every successful potion's master. Are there any questions pertaining to this lecture?" Severus asked his dark eyes roaming over the sea of students, his gaze boring into each person differently. Whether it was due to the fact that they had no questions, stopped paying attention an hour ago, or were too afraid to ask, no one raised their hand.
"Very well, I expect nothing less than flawless comprehension displayed in this week's essay, a three foot minimum, on my desk, Thursday morning."
There was a hum of groans spread across the room to which Severus had to suppress a satisfied grin.
"Si-i-ilence," he droned from the front of the classroom, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Since you appear to be such experts on the subject, three simple feet should be easy work for you."
The room of sixth years seemed somewhere between ultimately frustrated with their assignment and completely immersed in their hatred for the professor as the bell erupted from the hall.
"You are free to go," he said, followed by a large bustle of people packing their notepads and spare ingredients away.
Severus whirled around his desk, sitting down, dipping his quill within the ink pot to scribble down the names of the students who never arrived throughout the lesson.
A stack of essays, provided by his second years, stood at the left edge of his desk, the third years pile on the right. Looming over him with the daunting task of correcting them all. Letting out a small sigh of defiance he plucked the first paper from the heap to begin his grueling work.
The time passed slowly as Severus corrected essay after essay, each one seeming to be more disastrous than the one before it. A rain began pouring from the sky, not three hours past, filling the dungeon with an echoing patter. He placed his quill upon the desk, bringing his hands to his eyes in attempts to rub the dry boredom away. He yawned magnificently, tears coming to his stretched eyes, as his face scrunched in weariness.
As his mouth closed, his eyes opening, an excruciating pain ripped through his arm. It was a sharp stab that traveled from his left forearm, up his shoulder and into his chest. There was a split second where he feared he may be having a heart attack but when the pain vanished as quickly as it had come Severus came to the quick conclusion it must have had something to do with his dark mark.
He rolled up his sleeve to see the engraved mark grinning back at him. Puzzled by the odd phenomenon he rubbed his right hand over the tattooed skin bewildered when it began to fade. He could scarcely believe his eyes as the mark became fainter and fainter until it looked merely like an old scar, practically the same tone of his skin itself.
He spent the better half of the next hour mulling over different hypotheses as to why his mark would be demonstrating such odd behavior, each theory coming out to be more farfetched than the last. Was The Dark Lord dumping him? Did his mark vanish because his master wanted him to 'look' more the part of an appropriate teacher? Was he creating a new design for the dark mark? He didn't consider it as anything too atrocious until a folded piece of parchment fluttered into his classroom reading:
Severus we need to speak.
- A. Dumbledore
Snape threw the parchment into the bin beside his desk and pushed himself up. Before departing he looked at the clock in the back of the classroom reading it at 1:41 in the morning. A sudden surge of nervousness grasped him at the thought of what Albus could possibly need to speak with him about at this late hour. Surely this talk and his dark mark's peculiar conduct weren't merely coincidence.
The walk to the Head Master's office, usually feeling short, felt long and torturous. Each stair he climbed, each step he advanced, manifested his heightened perturbation. He whispered the ridiculous password of cake pops causing the gargoyle to spring to life, allowing him access to the long spiraled stair case to Dumbledore's office. He knocked three times only to pull his hands behind his back duly after.
"Come in, Severus," Dumbledore called from behind his door. Snape opened the door, closing it in his wake as he walked across the circular room, standing in the threshold.
"You wished to speak with me?" He asked, one of his feet perched on the first step of the office's stairs. The atmosphere in the room was thick and ill with anguish, quiet and burdening.
"Yes, Severus, do come in and have a seat," Dumbledore insisted, standing from his desk and offering him a chair.
Snape reluctantly walked forward, and lowered himself into the chair not daring to remove his quizzical gaze from Dumbledore's sullen one.
"I have terrible news for you, my boy, terrible news indeed," Albus began looking down at the startled young man.
"What?" Snape asked, his fear becoming rampant. There was no way he could have known at that point, but he had a sick feeling in his stomach that this was going to be about Lily. "What is it?" He pressed when Dumbledore said nothing.
"This evening, Lord Voldemort took it upon himself to murder Harry Potter—"
"What's become of her?" Severus asked, clutching the armrests frantically, his eyes widening.
"She's gone, Severus, Lord Voldemort has murdered her," Dumbledore said quietly.
Severus began spiraling at once. His breathing became short and his pulse began to increase the flow. His stomach churned into knots as a sensation, so sick it could have been the plague, washed over him. He looked at the floor, his eyes darting from side to side, begging the news to not be true. His eyes welled with tears as he forced himself to look back into Dumbledore's face.
"N-no—no!" He cried as the first tear pooled over his eyelid, gracefully rolling all the way down to his chin, followed by the second on the opposite side. "It-it—it cannot be true!"
"He came to them in the night, not an hour ago—he murdered James—murdered Lily—however the boy— with the boy he did not succeed."
Severus was barely listening as his tears continued to flow, his body being wracked by the loud sobs of anguish. He leaned forward, supporting his weight with his knees, as he cupped his hands over his face, muffling the sounds of his aching cries.
"The Dark Lord has vanished—the curse seemed to have rebounded and took Voldemort down in the process."
"I thought—you were going—to keep her—safe—"
"She and James put their faith in the wrong person," Dumbledore said looking sympathetically down at the bemoaning man. "Rather like you, Severus. Weren't you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?"
Severus tried to control his savage breathing, his head was beginning to spin excessively as the awkward sensation of pins and needles erupted in his hands, feet, and mouth. He roughly wiped at his eyes, to no avail, for he kept on sobbing.
"Her boy survives," Dumbledore uttered bewildered.
Snape jerked his head and stared at Albus incredulously. As if that was to make him feel better?
"Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and color of Lily Evan's eyes, I am sure?"
"Don't!" roared Snape, absolutely bereaved. "Gone—dead—"
"Is this remorse, Severus?" Dumbledore asked skeptically.
"I wish—I wish I were dead," Snape cried helplessly. He meant it.
"And what use would that be to anyone?" Dumbledore asked without use of empathy. "If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear."
Severus mulled over his last words unable to put them together. The only path Severus saw that was clear was to go to the Forbidden Forest, dig a hole, and just die within it.
"What—what do you mean?"
"You know how and why she died. Make sure it was not in vain. Help me protect Lily's son," Dumbledore stated as a matter of fact.
"He doesn't need protection," Severus protested. "The Dark Lord has gone—"
"The Dark Lord will return, and Harry Potter will be in terrible danger when he does."
Severus stared into the stone floor searching for acceptance of this whole ordeal. His mind was beginning to slow as the pins and needles receded, his limbs regaining their regular tones while his eyes slowed their production of tears. His breathing returned to normal as he wiped his nose with the back of hand.
"Very well, very well," he said clutching the extra fabric on the knees of his trousers. "But never—never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us, swear it! I cannot bear—especially Potter's son—I want your word!"
"My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?" There was a pause as Dumbledore realized the distraught man was not going to budge. "If you insist."
The two men sat in forlorn silence as several minutes turned into a collective hour.
"There's something else, as well," Albus said after he figured Severus' composure was fully regained.
Snape was grasped by dread as Dumbledore spoke these words. Albus took a quill from his desk, scribbled onto a piece of parchment, and sent it off out the door.
"There was another hidden in the dark corners of the house at Godric's Hollow this evening," Albus said, looking into Severus' slightly reddened face.
Severus' heart skipped a couple beats as he realized it could be none other than—
"Daddy!" Came the loud cry from the door way.
Severus stood and turned around just in time for the young girl to bash into him and wrap her slight arms around his waist. Holly hugged him ferociously as she cried into his clothes. "Daddy!" She wailed again, her traumatized cries echoing throughout the room.
Severus lifted her up and cradled her to him, muttering reassuring words and stroking her hair.
"Shhh, Holly, I'm here," he said, his once regained composure slipping through his fingertips. A few tears worked their way from his eyes as he sniffed them back, wanting to be strong for his daughter when he truly felt anything but.
"Why?" She bawled not understanding why she underwent the traumatizing events of that evening. Why she wasn't with her mother.
"I'm so sorry, Monster," he said hugging her tightly, rubbing her back tenderly.
Severus couldn't remember a time when he had such a pair of contrasting emotions wracking his heart. One piece of him was broken, never to be salvaged, for the loss of Lily. The other piece was elated, beyond belief, for the return of his daughter. Both made him want to break down and sob for weeks.
After hours had passed, and Severus was able to calm Holly down, she slept in his lap, still in Dumbledore's office.
"Thank you," Severus whispered to Albus. "For bringing my daughter back to me."
"Of course, Severus, of course," Albus said gazing upon father and daughter with fond eyes. "She certainly does take after you."
"Yes, I suppose she does," Snape answered, being filled with an unexpected pride. "I haven't a clue as to what I'm going to do."
"About what?" Albus asked.
"I have no legal claim over, Holly. I don't know what I'm going to do now with the courts. They blatantly stated that if I waited longer than one year and six months to reopen the custody agreement my chances of being awarded any kind of custody would likely be denied."
"Yes, those are their silly little rules," Albus said, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "That was before I sent them an owl of course."
"Y-you sent them an owl? On my behalf?"
"Yes, Severus, they should be receiving my validation of your position come morning. By this time tomorrow you'll be Holly's legal and only guardian."
"What am I to do with her? It's not as if I can take her to lessons with me and have her—I don't know—color in the middle of my classes," Severus pointed out.
"You have no relatives with which she could stay until you figure out a suitable arrangement?"
"I dare not subject her to the horrors of my mother," Severus said, contemplating his other options. His aunt, who lived in Australia, was a good enough woman. She did always complain about how Severus never came to see her enough. Watching Holly would be just the company she always craved.
"I do believe there is at least one," Severus agreed, standing up, Holly in his arms. "I must bid you goodnight now, Head Master."
"Good night, Severus."
Snape carried his daughter down the spiral staircase, through the deserted castle, and deep into the dungeons. He shifted her weight in his arms as he opened his office door, closing it behind him with his foot. Transporting her to his bed he sat her down as she groaned in protest, her sleep disrupted.
"What's going on?" She asked wearily, rubbing her eye with a slight fist.
"Its bed time, Holly," he said, pulling off her shoes.
"I'm not sleepy," she whined unable to stifle the large yawn that forced it's way out of her mouth.
"Oh, really?" Severus mused, looking down at her weary face.
"Mmhm," she insisted, her eyes heavy with sleep.
"You were fast asleep not two minutes ago," he countered, as he unbuttoned her dress.
"I wasn't," she protested.
"Mmhm," Severus agreed skeptically as he pulled her dress over her head. He turned around to go to his dresser where he fished out one of his white undershirts. He pulled the new garment over her head, it coming down to her knees, before he pulled back the covers and patted the readied spot.
"In," he commanded as Holly crawled towards the pillows, resting her head comfortably atop them. "There, now," he said tucking her in.
"Daddy?" She said, looking up at him with questioning eyes. "Where's Mummy?"
"Mummy's gone, Monster," he said delicately, the phrase burning his throat.
"When's she coming back?" She asked.
"She—she isn't coming back, Holly. She's passed away."
"You mean she went up to heaven?" She asked, her eyes staring longingly into Severus' face.
"Yes, that's where she went," Severus concluded unable to bring himself to disarm her notions of heaven. He stroked her hair lightly and smiled as warmly as he could for how hollow he felt inside.
"She'll be watching you from up there though, looking after you as if she was right here with us. No matter what befalls you, what ever hardships you face in your lifetime, your mother will always be with you. She loved you very much, Holly, and she always will. Nothing can truly take her away as long as you know that and continue to love and remember her, understand?"
Tears were silently leaking from Holly's eyes as Severus told her of the complexities of death. She nodded meekly pulling the covers up to her chin and turning to her side, her face nuzzled close to Severus' thigh.
Snape kicked off his shoes and scooted into the bed next to her, wrapping his arm about her shoulders. He kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes.
If life ever had a lesson for Severus Snape it was to teach him just how cruel and unfair its essence could be. Lily was gone, there was nothing he could do about it. The only woman whom he ever loved, would ever love, perished from this world, leaving his heart cloven and his mind in shambles.
An unexpected sense of acceptance trickled over him as he contemplated that it was all right. People died everyday and if he tortured himself with sorrow he would surely go mad. Lily was dead but his love for her was stronger than death, even if his love wouldn't change the fact. Lily's departure wasn't the greatest loss that could be had but what Severus could have let die in the midst of his grief. Lily would never be gone from this earth, not as long as Severus and Holly remained there. She would continue to live on through their hearts and memories.
The presence of Holly, breathing lightly beside him, washed Severus with comfort as his new found compliance with death glowed within. He twirled his fingers lightly in his daughters hair as he was overcome with happiness that she was back with him, clasped tightly in his embrace. Tethered to the horrid midst of Lily's death was the return of his daughter, who's love was his greatest blessing. He cuddled against his little girl, allowing his soul to be healed by her company.
"I love you daddy," Holly whispered into his ear as a smile played at Severus' lips.
"And I you."
-end-
Author's Note: Stay tuned for the epilogue. . .